O child, my baby son

[white camellia]

... ... ...

[Virgil]

Very nice Camillia. My favorite stanza:

O child, my baby son
The frisky snowflake swung
By Seraphim's hands of a tenderness
You play with
I fear
Its chill disposition frostbite
Your delicate silken fingers
The one I liked the least:

Through that verdant color
Of the glasses you wear
With hypocrisy filtered
Your crystalline eyes
watch the world all the sweeter
Furtively griming
your unsociable nature

Probably too many abstractions (and you use them as adjectives, which makes it worst) for such a small stanza: hypocrisy, furtive (I never liked that word, especially in poetry), unsociable. Just a comment, I envisioned the child to be an infant, but all of a sudden he has glases. It kind of jarred me. This is not a problem to the poem, but my problem.

Overall the poem is very nice.

[white camellia]

Thank you, Virgil, for your favorite and the least liked one! ;)
Actually, when I mentioned glasses, I referred to his adolescence, but unhappily, to you, it came abruptly, sort of cacophonous, yet still I meant to say his innocent nature. Let me think about some other words when these adjectives "makes it worst". Probably I'd better focus on the "infant".